Changing the End
by kmreece
Summary: Endgame Spoilers. Don't read if you haven't seen it yet. Was it really the end? What if Steve had done things a little bit different and something unexpected happened?
1. Chapter 1

"Are you sure you have to be the one to return the stones?" Bucky asked.

"Anyone else wanna try to lift Thor's hammer?" Steve replied as he flipped said item into the air and caught it.

Bucky chuckled and shook his head.

"Yeah, I didn't think so," Steve said.

"Ok, Cap," Bruce called out. "We're all ready here."

Bucky stepped back, coming to stand near Sam, and watched the subtle tension of Steve's body right before the portal opened and sucked him through.

"Five, four, three, two, one," Bruce announced, then poof, Steve was gone.

Bruce began resetting his instruments, then did the same count down again, preparing for Steve's return. "Five, four, three, two, one."

The portal opened again and no one was prepared for what came through.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

Steve started by returning the Tesseract, opting to get one of the worst parts of the journey over with first. It was bittersweet catching a glimpse of Tony stumbling over accidentally running into his father as he stole the Space Stone. And this time he stayed away from Peggy's office, because the momentary hesitation he had experienced before now felt like a betrayal of Natasha's memory.

Next, he returned the Power Stone, hating that he wasn't able to help the Nebula he knew be taken by the old Nebula to be interrogated and tortured by her father.

Then he travelled to Asgard to inject the Aether back into Jane Foster, only able to do so with the knowledge that Thor and Loki were eventually able to extract it before it did any lasting damage. He left Thor's hammer in a random windowsill because it wasn't like Thor could lose the thing. The Asgardian would just call it to him when he needed it.

After that, he travelled back to New York and returned Loki's staff with the Mind Stone in it to its Hydra keepers where they would study it and use it to give Wanda and Pietro their powers.

Then, he headed across town and came face to face with the bald women in yellow that Bruce had negotiated with.

"Captain Rogers," she welcomed him with a slight frown.

"Bruce made it," Steve said, knowing that she was concerned about the man she had met moments ago.

"I am glad," she replied a small smile warming her expression. "From your appearance, am I to believe you succeeded?"

"We stopped Thanos," Steve replied.

"But at a cost," the woman added.

Steve dropped his eyes, unable to handle her concerned gaze. "We lost a couple of people."

"I'm sorry for your loss," the woman said, sounding as if she really meant it. "However, I'm sure you'll find that no one is ever really gone."

He didn't question her, merely nodding as he returned the Time Stone before stepping away to activate his last jump.

Steve saved the Soul Stone for last because he honestly had no idea how he was going to handle returning the stone that had cost Natasha's life.

Arriving on the barren, yet beautiful planet was surreal. The climb to the top of the mountain was grueling, but even Clint's description of events didn't prepare him for the familiar face that greeted him when he had nearly reached the top.

"Steven, son of Sarah and Joseph Rogers."

"Johann Schmidt," Steve replied as he stopped in front of the red-faced man.

The cloaked figure drifted closer. "You are too late. The Soul Stone has already been taken."

"I came to _return_ it."

At his statement, the Red Skull stopped in midair. "That was . . . unexpected." He paused for another moment, then turned and began drifting up the stone stairs. "Follow me."

Steve slowly followed behind, mind racing as to how the Red Skull ended up as the keeper or guide to the Soul Stone and came to the conclusion that the Tesseract had deposited the man here when he touched it all those years ago.

They reached the top and while Steve tried his damnedest to hold it together, seeing the place where Natasha died drove him to his knees and brought fresh tears to his eyes.

She would never get to see what they would accomplish with their second chance. She would never get to see Clint's kids grow into adults, help mold and shape them. She would never get to have a relationship with Tony's daughter. She would never get to help him train the new Avengers, to help polish their hand to hand combat skills and develop their covers for the more covert operations.

And he would never get a chance to really explore what might have been.

When Steve had pulled himself together enough to finish the task at hand, he pushed himself to his feet and opened the case to withdraw the remaining stone. Tossing the now empty container to the side, he half listened as it skittered across the rock and bounced down the side of the cliff.

For a moment, he contemplated throwing himself off of the great height to join Natasha at the bottom.

Only two things stopped him.

The first were his remaining friends. While everyone might understand his self-sacrificing, suicidal tendencies, he couldn't do that to them, not come back and leave them wondering what had happened, not when there were still things that needed fixing.

Especially things with Bucky. While the Wakandan doctors were able to take the Winter Soldier programming out of his head, his best friend was still struggling, and he couldn't let him to face any of their unknown future alone.

"_I'm with you, 'til the end of the line."_

Those words were truer now than they had ever been. Steve wasn't about to abandon Bucky, not after everything they had gone through both separately and together, not when they had a chance to live the kind of life they should have. He would be there to help Bucky regain some semblance of the man he once was, no matter how long it took.

The second thing that stopped him was knowing that Natasha wouldn't want him to join her in whatever afterlife there was due to his own selfish desires. She would want him to soldier on no matter how hard it was because there were still people out there that needed him, even if it was merely as someone running a support group.

He lifted his hand over the cliff and unfurled his fingers, letting the orange stone rest in his palm for a second, before rotating his wrist and letting the thing fall.

It was impossible for him to watch its decent. Natasha wouldn't want him to see the crumpled speck of her body at the bottom. So he stared straight ahead and forced himself to keep breathing.

Just as the tiny stone struck the rocks below, the sky above him began to brighten and thunder boomed even though there was no lightning. The ground shook and nearly pitched him off the edge. Then a sudden flash of light blinded him and the ground disappeared beneath him.

The next thing he knew, he found himself lying in water staring up at the alien sky.

Was that it?

Had the stone been properly returned?

Was he free to go home now, back to his timeline, back to a world that would be dimmer now without the light of two of his closest friends?

Steve began to sit up, suddenly impatient to get off this empty planet and only then realized the added weight across his chest. Glancing down, he found a body draped on top of him and it took him a moment to register that the person had deep red hair.

He froze.

This was it. His mind had finally broken. After managing to stay relatively sane throughout the years, no matter what the world had thrown at him, he must have finally lost it because there was no way that Natasha was anything but gone.

But there she was, lying unmoving across his chest.

How was this possible?

Clint had watched his best friend fall, had seen her broken body at the bottom of the cliff. He wouldn't have lied about something like that, not with how much they all meant to each other, and especially not with everything at stake.

And then something the archer had said drifted across his mind.

"_A soul for a soul." _

That's what Clint had told him that the Red Skull had said, the secret to getting the orange stone that had cost the life of the woman in his arms.

"Natasha?" His voice was barely more than a whisper, afraid that anything else would break the illusion of her on top of him. But when she didn't respond, he bolted upright, shifting her in his grip, settling her in his lap.

She was relatively unharmed, no noticeable wounds, no blood. He ran his hands up and down her arms and back, feeling nothing out of place, even cupped the back of her head, winding his fingers through her messy braid and found nothing abnormal.

"Natasha," he said again, a little louder this time. Still no reply. "Natasha. Come on, wake up. Natasha!" He gripped her a little tighter against him. "Hey, I'm here. Wake up. We did it! Nat."

Just as he was beginning to really panic, a small groan vibrated from her throat.

Steve froze, still half convinced that he was imagining all of this.

"Steve?"

A flustered laugh bubbled up. "That's it. Wake up. Nat."

"Steve?" she asked again, her voice just a tad gravellier than was normal. Her eyelids fluttered open, then scrunched closed for a moment, before opening again and focusing on him.

"Nat," he whispered because it was just so unbelievable. Moments before, she had been dead. She had sacrificed herself for just the _chance_ that they might be able to fix what Thanos had done. And now, there she lay in his arms, staring up at him, alive and well.

Unable to hold himself back any longer, he finally did what he had been longing to do since she failed to return from her mission and leaned down to press his lips against hers.

She was _real!_

There was no mistaking her slight weight in his arms, the soft warmth of her pressed against him, the surprised inhale at his desperate affection.

He pulled back quicker than he would have liked, but he needed to see her, needed to prove to himself again that she wasn't just an illusion or his imagination.

"What happened?" she asked, a frown marring her brow, probably confused as to why he had just kissed her after having never initiated any kind of intimacy between them before.

"We did it, Nat," he explained.

"You did?"

He smiled. "_We_ did."

"But how –," she looked around before continuing. "I thought –"

"It doesn't matter," Steve interrupted, not wanting to focus on the fact that she had been gone minutes before, only interested in the fact that she was alive and safe with him now. "I'll explain everything later. I promise."

She nodded and started to pull her feet under her in an effort to stand.

However, Steve wouldn't let her get far. He pushed himself to his feet with her still pressed against his chest because there was no way he was letting her go right now.

"Hold tight," he said and waited until her grip strengthened before activating their suites and sending them back to their present.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

The portal opened a split second after Bruce's countdown and Steve reappeared, only he wasn't alone. In his arms was a familiar red head that no one expected to see again.

"Oh my god," Bucky breathed.

"Somebody call Clint," Steve ordered from his place on the platform. "She'll want to talk to him."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: _That you to everyone who commented, liked, and favorited. I am overwhelmed by the response. I have added/edited Chapter 1 so you might want to go back and reread that._

_I am choosing to ignore the Nat/Bruce romance subplot in AoU. I understand what they were trying to do, giving two damaged characters someone to lean on, but I couldn't bring myself to believe in that particular ship. I like to think that the two of them have bonded over the fact that they both think they are monsters, but that is goes no further than that. Same with the Steve/Sharon kiss. It just made me cringe._

_Now, on to Chapter 2!_

The journey back through was easier than she remembered, but Natasha explained that away easily enough because last time she wasn't snuggled up against a super soldier, a super soldier who had kissed her just moments ago. She forced herself to file that away for later contemplation in favor of figuring out just how she wasn't dead.

They came to rest in a wooded area near a river that she vaguely recognized.

Startled gasps greeted them.

"Somebody call Clint," Steve ordered. "She'll want to talk to him."

Sam immediately dug into his jacket pockets and produced a phone, quickly tapping a few buttons and putting the device to his ear.

Natasha pushed against Steve's chest. While part of her loved having him hold her close, the other part needed to stand on her own two feet again and didn't want to seem weak in front of the others, not that she wouldn't enjoy reminding them that she was perfectly capable of kicking their asses.

Steve let her down, but didn't let her get far. He snagged her hand and pulled her over to the steps where Bruce reached out to help her down.

"What happened?" she finally asked after embracing Bruce and seeing his badly damaged right arm.

"We won," Bruce answered simply, a sad sort of smile pulling at his lips.

Sam strode over, holding his phone out to her. "Clint, you're on speaker."

"Cap, what's going on?" Clint asked, his voice slightly distorted. "Wilson said something happened?"

"Clint?" Natasha asked into the phone.

Beside her, Steve grabbed her hand again, squeezing and holding her steady when her knees threatened to give out on her.

"Natasha?" her best friend half whispered in reply. "I – I don't understand." His hitched breath made her own catch in her throat. "H-how –"

"I don't know," she said, throat closing as she remembered their last exchange and how desperate she had been to save him.

"Clint," Steve cut in. "We're at the compound. We can –"

"I'm on my way," the archer replied, voice tight. It wasn't difficult for her to imagine the way he was probably shutting down all emotion, too afraid of giving into hope, just like how he had been when she had found him to give him the news that they might have found a way to bring his family back.

The line went dead abruptly and everyone took a breath before Steve handed the phone back to Sam.

"We're at the compound?" Natasha finally asked after receiving a quick, but firm hug from Sam. She glanced around, confused by the cluster of trees around them, no giant concrete and glass building jutting up into the skyline.

Steve nodded and turned, revealing the piles of rubble behind him.

There was nothing left.

The compound was completely demolished.

"What happened?" She locked eyes with Steve, begging him with her gaze not to sugar coat it, to rip off the band aid.

He sighed, bracing himself, and explained in short, stilted sentences what she had missed. He explained how they had returned to their timeline with all of the Stones, minus her.

Bruce explained how they had built their own gauntlet and he had used it to undo what Thanos had done, holding up his injured arm as an example.

Sam told her about reappearing in Wakanda and meeting up with everyone else to be transported by some mysterious wizard types to the compound. But rather than embellish upon the battle, he held himself back, stating simple facts as if he were writing a report on the events, which was her first clue that something hadn't gone their way.

Steve's gaze, which had been so intent upon her face throughout the retelling, suddenly dropped when he told her that they had won.

Natasha gently squeezed his hand, the one that had barely let go of hers since they had landed on the platform earlier. "Steve?"

The man in question glanced at their audience.

"We'll give you a minute," Sam said and led Bucky and Bruce away toward where a few trailers had been set up for them.

"Is everyone okay?" Natasha asked. She had already laid eyes on four of her teammates and had spoken on the phone with another, albeit briefly, but it still confirmed his status as alive. That still left numerous people unaccounted for.

Steve started to nod, then stopped himself. "Tony –" He cut himself off, unable to finish, which was all that Natasha needed to come to her own conclusion.

"Tony's gone, isn't he?" Natasha asked thickly as she struggled to speak around the building lump in her throat.

Steve's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he finally met her gaze again and spoke. "Thanos managed to get the gauntlet and put it on. Tony fought him again, absorbed the Stones into his suit, and snapped his fingers. Thanos and his army disappeared." Steve swallowed, biting his lips as he struggled to speak. "He saved us all, but it killed him."

Natasha's tears finally spilled over and she leaned into Steve, letting his strong arms envelop her. Part of her enjoyed the embrace, but the other part scolded her ability to feel anything but sorrow over the loss she had just realized.

The once genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist – minus the playboy title thanks to Pepper – who had time and again risked his life to save the world, succumbed to the greatest threat they had ever faced, but not without saving the universe and everyone she held most dear. Anthony Edward Stark: arguably the world's most egotistical genius was gone and the world somehow seemed emptier without his larger than life presence even though it had regained everyone it had previously lost in the Snap.

"When's the funeral?" Natasha asked against Steve's chest.

His shoulders tensed before he replied. "We laid him to rest a week ago."

"How long was I gone?" Natasha frowned as she pulled away slightly to look into Steve's eyes.

"A little over two weeks," Steve whispered as his grip on her tightened.

For Natasha, it had only been a few minutes since she had fallen over the cliff on Vormir, a few minutes since she had woken up in Steve's arms. But for everyone else, she had been gone for weeks. She had been _dead_ for weeks.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

After the revelation, Steve pulled Natasha back against his chest. She just looked so upset and confused by what he had told her that he wasn't able to resist his desire to comfort her.

The two of them stood quietly like that for a long time as they both contemplated their mutual loss.

A small part of Steve basked in her closeness, reveling in the second chance he had now been given, and was silently trying to figure out what his next move should be. Should he take it slow, feel things out before asking her on one of those dates she had always been pushing him to go on with someone else? Or should he set aside all pretense and tell her exactly how he felt?

"Let's get you cleaned up," Steve finally said after only just realizing that their suits were still wet from their time in the water on Vormir and led her to the couple of trailers set up nearby.

She silently followed and he was thankful that she hadn't yet questioned why he was still holding her hand. He wasn't sure how to explain himself just yet. However, he was forced to release her when he opened the door of the nearest trailer, allowing her to enter first.

It was brand new with state-of-the-art technology, meant to be a home away from home for those that used them as recreational vehicles. For Steve, it _was_ home for the next several months while he figured out his next steps.

Pepper had gifted him a pair of them when she had overheard his plans to stick around near the compound to assist in the clean-up process.

At the moment, he was just thankful that the thing had a huge water tank.

"You can have the first shower," he offered motioning toward the bathroom. "There are towels on the shelf."

Thankfully, she didn't argue or tease him about chivalry, just nodded her thanks and closed herself inside. The water came on moments later and Steve froze as he realized that she was peeling herself out of her Black Widow catsuit on the other side of some flimsy bits of wood.

Steve literally shook his head, forcing the thoughts from his head and went to raid his clothes for something Nat could wear. But the thoughts and images came back with a vengeance when he knocked on the door and slid it open an inch to lay the t-shirt and sweat pants on the sink.

A little while later, just as Steve was starting to wonder if he should make something for Nat to eat, she came out of the bathroom. Her petite form was nearly swallowed by his shirt. She hadn't bothered with the sweat pants, probably because the bottom of his shirt came down to about mid-thigh on her.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, still standing at the open pantry, trying not to stare at her bare legs.

She shook her head as she began towel drying her hair. "No, I'm fine right now. You can go ahead and shower. We'll make something when you're done."

Steve's only reply was a nod as he grabbed up his own stack of clothes from the table and reluctantly closed himself in the bathroom. He took a quick shower, half afraid that if he let her out of his sight for too long then she'd disappear again, proving he was insane.

By the time he exited the bathroom, Natasha was sitting on the couch staring into space as she braided her red and blond locks.

"Hungry yet?" he asked and was unsurprised when she shook her head.

He joined her on the couch, hardly leaving any space between them as he sat next to her, taking one of her hands as soon as she tied off her braid and lowered them to her lap.

"I just can't wrap my mind around it," she murmured. "I was gone two weeks?"

"Yes," Steve replied, forcing the single word out. He didn't want to think about how long she had been gone, about how she had been technically dead.

He was sure there were so many things she wanted to ask him about. Steve could see the wheels in her head spinning and piecing information together in endless twists and turns and he so admired her ability to process everything he had told her. So, when she finally spoke, he was surprised by the subject she had settled. On.

"About what happened on Vormir," Natasha began, leveling her gaze upon his just like she had years ago in Sam's spare room as she asked him if he trusted her.

"I'm sorry," he said, then silently scolded himself for his poor choice of words and decided to fall back on his usual tactic of making light of the situation. "I mean, I probably should have asked beforehand."

Natasha blinked, a minute expression of surprise flashing across her eyes before she schooled it back into something more focused. "What did it mean?"

She wanted to know what his kiss meant? Really? Wasn't it obvious?

He had been attracted to her from the moment he met her. She had been so strong, so confident, so self-assured and he had found comfort in meeting someone like to Peggy, even if that was the only similarity between them. Natasha had impressed him even more with her blasé attitude when it came to fighting the Chitauri.

Then had come their partnership within S.H.E.I.L.D. while she showed him the ropes and teased him about being an old man instead of babying him like many others had deemed appropriate.

He had always been thankful that she hadn't looked further into his comment on the escalator after their first kiss while they were hiding from Hydra agents. She had asked if he was still uncomfortable and his knee jerk response had been that uncomfortable wasn't the word he would use. Because that kiss had reawakened the carnal desires he had pushed aside for so long and of course it had to happen during one of the most ill-timed moments in their partnership.

During their years together, both before and after the Snap, he had never let himself act on his attraction to her, somewhat satisfied by the close friendship they had developed and unwilling to risk ruining things by attempting to move things in a different direction.

On Natasha's end of things, he was pretty sure she was attracted to him. He could see it occasionally in the way her eyes roamed his body before making some snarky comment. But she had never gone further than those few heated looks.

Steve then had to remind himself about her upbringing and everything she had gone through. She had been raised to think of herself as an asset, not as a person. For the longest time, she had believed she was undeserving of love. Her initial friendship with Clint had helped her develop some level of self-worth beyond her abilities as a spy

Part of her disbelief was Steve's fault and he didn't protest the guilt that pressed down upon him. He hadn't handled his failure to stop Thanos and undo the Snap very well and all but abandoned Natasha at the compound in order to find some meaning.

"I've felt that way for a long time, and after everything that's happened, I don't want to waste any more time," he said. "I know how I feel and I'm willing to give this a shot if you are." He let his walls down, allowing her to read the hope he was sure was written on his face.

Natasha studied him for a few moments and Steve held her gaze, enduring the sudden terror at the thought that she might reject him.

Then her gaze shifted just a few inches downward and she hesitantly leaned forward until their breath mingled.

Steve took that as her permission and he leaned down to brush his lips against hers


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**_ Again, thank you for all of the follows, favorites, and reviews. A few people have mentioned something about a Nat/Clint reunion so here it is. This was something planned from the beginning and I ended up writing it from three different POV's before finally deciding which one I preferred. I hope I do the moment justice. It took me a LONG time to get this just right, and even then, I'm not 100% satisfied. Let me know what you think!_

Unlike the desperate one on Vormir, this kiss was much more hesitant.

Natasha was thankful for it though because it gave her a chance to really sink into the fact that it was real.

He pulled away almost immediately and she met his questioning gaze as he searched for the smallest hint that she wasn't okay with his actions.

She gave him a small smile, encouraging him to continue, almost moaning when he lowered his lips back down to hers. The soft brush of Steve's mouth sent the barest tremble through her entire body and she curled a hand around the back of his neck, threading her fingers through the short hairs there, finding an anchor so she wouldn't drift away on the competing waves of nervousness and joy.

Natasha cursed herself for having always kept herself in check when it came to her feelings for Steve. She had known early on that he was attracted to her, and for the longest time she had believed that keeping her distance was for the best, that she was not the woman that Captain America was supposed to be with.

But then she had learned to separate the two. While there was no denying that Steve Rogers was Captain America, there was still a difference between them.

And now, after everything that had happened, she was past the point of caring what anyone else thought. All that mattered was what she thought.

So much wasted time.

But this was their second chance to make up for it, to have a life.

So she took the leap and deepened the kiss.

His arms came around her, pulling her against him, and she reveled in his sharp inhale when her tongue swiped along his bottom lip. He opened to her and she nearly giggled as she tasted the winter mint of his toothpaste.

While the meeting of tongues would usually increase the intensity of any kiss, this merely changed the level. Their teeth clicked against each other in a sloppy move that had them both chuckling, but they dove back in, smiling against each other.

Natasha was struck by how deeply their kiss affected her, not just affecting her body and mind, but her very being, sending waves of emotion through her that she couldn't even begin to process thoroughly.

In her desire to be closer to him, Natasha pushed Steve back against the couch and swung one leg over his hips. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling herself tight against him even as he wrapped an arm around her waist and hauled her close to his chest. His other hand dove into her hair, finding purchase at the nape of her neck, tilting her head ever so slightly to give them a better angle.

Hunger didn't drive their actions, just the desire to be as close as possible. But even then, they refrained from pulling at each other's clothes. One of Steve's hands might have found its way under her shirt to splay across the skin of her lower back, but it rose no further than that, and a few of Natasha's fingers might have pushed under the color of his shirt, but she also went no further, too satisfied with their current activity.

In all of their years working together, Natasha had gotten to know the strength Steve possessed having been carried, lifted, and thrown by him in various situations. But none of that prepared her for how safe she felt in his arms now.

The realist in her knew it was because the situation was completely different. The romantic side of her, which had suddenly decided to reveal itself, said that even though he hadn't said the words, the strength of his grip on her now, and before when he had carried her home from Vormir, said that he loved her.

She pushed the realist aside and embraced the romantic, allowing herself to bask in the warm glow of Steve and his kiss.

All too soon though, they were forced to come up for air or risk suffocating each other.

She laid a gentle hand upon his face, cupping his smooth cheek and admired his aquamarine eyes. Even if she hadn't been sure before, looking into his eyes in that moment revealed his love for her.

Natasha had no words. There was no way for her to express the different emotions warring inside of her.

Instead, she went in for another kiss, but a faint rumble pulled her up short.

Natasha levered herself to her feet with some minor assistance from Steve and bound over to the door to look outside.

The Quinjet zoomed overhead, then slowed to hover in the nearby clearing. Uncaring of her bare feet and legs, Natasha took off down the stairs and loped through the grass, stopping a safe distance away as the jet landed.

Steve came up behind her, threading his fingers through hers and giving them a small squeeze in a show of support. And while part of her was eager to go back to the trailer and see where things went, the absolute _need_ to see her best friend pushed everything else to the wayside.

The rear ramp began to lower and Clint came into view. He faced away, into the jet and Natasha caught the faint sound of his voice. The archer didn't even look her way as he backed down the ramp, still speaking to someone inside the jet.

When he reached the ground, he finally turned toward her and paused midstride. Only her well-trained eye caught the momentary weakening of his knees as he steadied himself at the sight of her.

No longer able to hold herself back, Natasha broke into a jog, then a sprint in just a few strides while Clint did nearly the same.

They slammed into each other, knocking the breath from each other's lungs, nearly falling to the ground with the collision. He lifted her off her feet and squeezed her almost as tight as Steve had.

When he finally loosened his grip and let her stand on her own two feet, Clint still didn't let her go.

"Is this real?" he asked, cupping her face in both of his hands, eyes searching hers for the truth.

"I'm real," Natasha choked out in a muffled laugh and met his gaze with her own watery one.

He searched her face for a long moment before asking, "how is this possible?"

"I don't know," she said with a shake of her head.

And just as he had on Vormir, Clint lowered his forehead to hers and she closed her eyes to bask in the moment of being in her best friend's presence again.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

If Steve hadn't already known that there was nothing between Clint and Natasha other than friendship, he would have been uncomfortable watching their reunion. There was something so intimate in the way they held onto one another. But then he had to remind himself that Clint's habit of picking up lost and lonely strays meant he was always adding to his family, and Natasha was definitely part of Clint's family considering his youngest kid was named after her in a way.

He was also glad that the archer was on the shorter side because if Natasha had to lift her arms any higher to hug him then she would have been showing off much more than just her dancer's legs.

As it was, the peanut gallery standing to his right couldn't help themselves.

"Looks like somebody finally decided to stop waiting," Sam murmured to Bucky, loud enough for Steve to hear.

Part of him wanted to tell them off, but he knew Sam was only messing with him, so he refrained from correcting them, letting them believe what they wanted because it probably wasn't too far from the truth.

Behind the hugging former assassins, Clint's family gathered after disembarking from the Quinjet and waited quietly for their turn to greet the returned from the dead red-head.

The kids were the first in line, enveloping her in a group hug that no doubt weakened her knees.

"She said you returned the stone?" Clint asked as he held out his hand to shake Steve's in greeting.

Steve nodded. "Next thing I knew, there she was."

The pair turned to watch as a quietly crying Wanda embraced her mentor and friend.

Then came Laura who hugged Natasha longer than anyone else, and only due to his enhanced hearing was Steve able to catch the woman's repeated thanks.

What an awkward conversation that was for Laura, thanking her husband's partner for sacrificing herself so that there was the slimmest chance of reuniting with his family once again.

"You could have warned me that it was Red Skull," Steve commented with a wry grin.

"I told you it was some red-faced mother-fucker," Clint muttered quietly so that his kids wouldn't overhear their father cursing. "How was I supposed to know that you had already met him?"

"Crack a history book once in a while."

Clint scoffed. "Hey, man, it's not like they have any pictures of what he looked like."

He had a point, so Steve just chuckled, refocusing on the happy reunion, and tried not to be jealous of all of the hugs Natasha was doling out.

When Natasha had hugged all of the new arrivals, she returned to Clint, tucking herself under his outstretched arm and surprised Steve by reaching out to take his hand, threading her fingers through his in a hesitant grip.

Thankfully, no one commented on it.

For a while, all of them just stood there talking about nothing particularly important, but Steve could tell that Natasha had other things on her mind by the way she kept glancing over at the construction crew digging through the remains of the compound.

Sam was the one to bring up dinner, inviting Clint and his family to stay. Together, they migrated back to the trailers where Sam and Laura took it upon themselves to start cooking. Before long, burgers and hotdogs were sizzling on the grill.

Hours later, after everyone had been fed and the sky was starting to dim, Clint began gathering his family, ushering them toward the waiting Quinet.

"Come home with us," Clint invited Natasha.

"I appreciate that," she said. "But I think I'm going to stay."

"Don't you think you deserve a little time off?"

Steve completely understood where Clint's mind was at. Natasha deserved a break after everything she had done to help them get the stones and reverse the Snap, never mind the fact that she had died and came back to life.

But if Steve knew anything about Natasha, it was that she was tireless when it came to the things she felt responsible for. And putting the world back together was something she could push aside, at least not for a while.

Natasha shook her head. "I'll take some time off when I know everything here is under control. You know these boys can't manage it all by themselves."

Steve was tempted to reply with one of his usual snarky retorts, but he refrained because what she said was true. She had always been much more important to the team than she was given credit for. She was the one who had stayed at the compound during the years after the Snap helping organize teams across the globe as well as the galaxy. She had been the one taking endless notes to try to come up with a plan to undo everything. She had been the one to realize that three of the stones were in New York City at the same time.

Natasha was also the one who had given no thought of herself when it came time to retrieve the Soul Stone, at least by Clint's retelling of events.

The Soviet spy turned S.H.E.I.L.D. agent turned Avenger really was the soul of the team and Steve planned to prove it to her in every way possible.

Thankfully, Clint didn't push further other than wrangling a promise from her that she would visit within the next week.

The archer and his family gave Natasha more hugs before heading back to the Quinjet for the return trip home.

Those left retreated to the trailers, Sam and Bruce in one, Steve, Bucky, and Nat in the other. Steve flat out refused to let Natasha sleep anywhere but the man bedroom, letting her tease him about chivalry without protest.

He took a seat on the couch after Natasha had closed the bedroom door and contemplated how differently the day could have gone.

For one, he might not be there with everyone if he had followed through with his initial desire to end things on Vormir. There would have been no heartwarming reunion between friends and family and everyone would have been going to bed in a much less positive mood, just preparing themselves for the next day's work rather than looking forward to it.

He wondered if he'd get another chance tomorrow to kiss Natasha, or how long it would be before they could steal some time to discuss everything that was on his mind about the status of their relationship, if there even was one.

"I'm gonna make myself scarce," Bucky said, pulling Steve from his wandering thoughts. His best friend had a folded-up blanket and pillow under his arm.

"What?" Steve asked.

Bucky nodded toward the back bedroom. "Don't pretend you don't know what I mean."

Steve opened his mouth to protest, then closed it because there were things he wanted to discuss with Natasha and it would be much easier without an audience. Even if Bucky wasn't in the same room, with his enhanced hearing it would be like he was.

Bucky winked at him before descending the steps and closing the trailer door behind him.

Steve turned to stare at the closed door to the bedroom, trying to gather his courage. There was so much he needed to say to her, so many things he needed to apologize for.

He strode over, took one more deep breath, and knocked.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** _Thank you again to all those who read, followed, favorited, and reviewed. It gives me great pleasure to know that I'm not the only one who wished Endgame would have gone a little differently for my favorite (non MCU-canon) power couple. _

_Just an FYI, this chapter is __**M -rated**__, so if you aren't into that kind of thing, only read to the POV switch. Otherwise, we're heading into smutville. I am a big fan of smut; however, I prefer the tasteful kind to the raunchy stuff, so that is how I write it. Hopefully, you're a fan either way._

_Only one more chapter after this. _

"Come in," Natasha called out, voice muffled by the oak paneling that separated them.

Steve opened the door and was surprised to find her perched on the end of the bed rather than already under the covers.

"You okay?" he asked, unable to stop the knee-jerk question. How could anyone be okay after everything that had happened?

She nodded. "Just trying to wrap my head around everything."

"It's a lot to take in," Steve agreed as he took a seat next to her on the bed, sitting much closer than he would have in the past. The mattress dipped under his weight, making her slide toward him until their legs were pressed against each other.

"The question I keep coming back to is 'what now'?" Natasha said. "I think I was just so focused on the 'how' that I never really thought about what I'm supposed to do afterward."

"You could do whatever you want to do," Steve replied.

"I know, but there's still so much that needs to be done. The world's got to be in chaos right now with everyone back." Natasha started to run a hand through her hair, only for her fingers to get snagged.

Steve reached over and pushed her hands away from the end of her braid, pulling the tie out, and began unwinding her red and blond hair with the utmost care.

"It's nothing you can't handle," he said, trying to reassure her undoubtably scrambled thoughts. "You'll just take it one day at a time."

She nodded. "What about you?" Natasha asked.

"I think I'm ready to try some of that life Tony was telling me to get."

"You mean formally retire?" She frowned. Though he hadn't exactly retired during the five years after the Snap, he had taken a step back from Avenging and taken up Sam's role of running a support group.

Steve chuckled and shook his head. "No, not yet at least. I just meant that I think I'm finally ready to let go of the past and focus on what's been in front of me all along."

"Yeah? What's that?"

Steve had prepared himself for her question. Natasha was nothing but direct. However, he still found himself hesitating, afraid of what she might say, afraid of rejection. But then a voice in the back of head that sounded suspiciously like Bucky told him that if he was brave enough – _stupid enough _– to stand up by himself against Thanos and his army with only half a shield, then he could tell Natasha how he felt.

"You," he said, taking the leap.

Her curious expression wavered slightly, morphing into something longing and hopeful for a split second before she schooled it.

"I've always been there for you, Steve," she replied, and he knew that she purposely misunderstood him.

"I know you have," he said, dropping her gaze out of embarrassment. "You've always been there. You kept the world running when the rest of us couldn't do it and I'm so sorry that I wasn't there to help you. I just –" He dropped his gaze down to his hands out of embarrassment.

He wasn't sure how to explain himself. There were so many reasons as to why he'd had to take a break from being Captain America. After going up against Thanos and losing, he had lost faith in his abilities, and finding out that Thanos destroyed the stones so they couldn't undo what he had done had only made the feeling worse.

"You had just lost everyone that meant the most to you," Natasha tried to reason.

"I did, but I forgot that you did, too." He sighed. "I also forgot that I hadn't lost you." Steve looked back up at her, focusing on her direct gaze. "I don't want to be your friend and partner anymore," he said, then recovered when he realized how it came out. "I don't _just_ want to be those things."

"What do you want?" she asked after a moment.

"I want more," he said before leaning in and kissing her again. "I want you. I want however much you'll give me."

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

Natasha's heart swelled with Steve's declaration. Her only response was to kiss him harder, hands coming up to brace herself against his broad shoulders.

She parted her lips to his seeking tongue and shivered when he moaned into her mouth. His strong hands found purchase on her waist and he lowered them back onto the bed, stretching out beside her, stroking his hands up and down her sides.

When his fingers skimmed the hem of her shirt, Natasha arched against him, silently welcoming his seeking digits. In a swift move, Steve rid her of the clothing, reveling that she wore nothing but a pair of skimpy blue panties under his borrowed shirt.

She couldn't help but grin when Steve took a moment to admire her body. Natasha knew she looked good. All of her years of ballet and martial arts training kept her fit, giving her body a nice tone without being too intimidating to potential marks. But Steve's gaze didn't hold the type of lust that she was used to with men. His held reverence.

Natasha didn't let him look too long before she sat up and forced his own shirt up and over his head. Then she pulled him on top of her, bringing his muscular torso flush with hers. Their nipples grazed against each other's a few times as their mouths met in another deep kiss.

But all too soon, Steve pulled away and began kissing his way down her body, nipping at her neck and shoulders. He stopped at her breasts, cupping them in each hand, swirling his tongue around each of her nipples before continuing downward. He paid special attention to the scar just left of her belly button, pressing a soft, almost chaste kiss there, sending chills throughout her entire body.

Finally, he hooked his thumbs into her panties and pulled them down her legs in a single, even stroke. He looked to her before continuing his exploration of her body, so Natasha parted her legs to answer his questioning eyes.

He didn't seem to mind the red thatch of hair that grew between her legs, smoothing his fingers through the curls before dipping down to stroke her slit. Natasha drew her knees up, further exposing herself to him and let out a soft moan when Steve pressed a finger to her clit.

She grabbed at his shoulders, bringing him down beside her so she could kiss him again while he pleasured her with his hand, rubbing over her clit a few times before stroking first one, then two fingers into her while he ground the heel of his palm against her.

All too soon, she was a shaking mess, unable to keep kissing him. Steve levered himself back onto his knees to watch and she forced herself to keep her gaze locked with his while she writhed and sighed, hips pumping with each thrust of his hand.

When her muscles began coiling from her pending orgasm, Natasha pushed his hand away and sat up.

A quick maneuver had Steve on his back under her. He grinned, obviously pleased with her show of strength and skill.

Natasha pressed a few lingering kisses to his lips, nibbling playfully before pulling away to graze her teeth along the tendons of his throat. She paid his body the same attention, nibbling each individual line of muscle along his abdomen, reveling over the way his body flexed involuntarily, before edging her fingers under the top edge of his boxer briefs.

With careful precision, she pushed the material down his thighs all the while keeping her gazed locked on his.

Only when he was completely exposed and the last of his clothing had joined hers on the floor did Natasha take her eyes off of his. She lowered her gaze to his erection and was pleased to find that it was only slightly above average in all ways, because no matter what anyone else said, bigger was not always better.

She stroked a hand over him, fingers skimming from the bulbus head down to his testicles, making him shiver and twitch. When she wrapped her fist along his length, Steve's entire body tensed and he let out a shaky breath as she pumped her hand up and down a few times.

Rather than build him into a writhing mess like he had done to her, Natasha kept him in hand as she straddled his hips, preparing to lower herself onto him, but a gentle hand on her hip stopped her.

"Are you sure?" he asked, pupils blown so wide she could only see a faint line of the aquamarine she had grown to love.

She smiled and leaned down to kiss him. "I'm sure," she replied before pushing upright and lowering herself onto him.

Natasha hissed at the stretch while Steve moaned underneath her.

It took her a few strokes to adjust to him, but when she was finally able to take all of him in, Steve forced her to pause, pulling her hips flush against his.

For a moment, they just basked in the feel of each other, stroking hands up and down the other's body, admiring the light sheen of perspiration and tousled hair their intimacy had produced.

Natasha flexed against him, pulling a surprised gasp from Steve which spurred her on. She levered herself up, then slid down his length in a long, smooth stroke.

At first, Steve's hands roamed her body, cupping her breasts, thumbing her nipples in time with her strokes, grabbing at the globes of her ass to help guide her. But eventually, he reached up and threaded their fingers together, giving her an anchor, connecting them in yet another way, one that oddly seemed more intimate than everything else they had done.

It didn't take long for Natasha to work either of them into a frenzy.

Steve flexed his hips a few times, finding just the right angle to have her breath hitching. He reached between them, finding her clit and swiping his thumb across it a few times.

Natasha found her rhythm faltering as her muscles began to seize, right on the edge.

Steve suddenly sat up beneath her, bringing their torsos flush against one another, pressing smooth expanses of skin together. He took her mouth in an aggressive kiss, biting at her lips, thrusting his tongue into her mouth in imitation of what he was doing below.

Her breath caught and the next thrust of his hips sent her flying.

When awareness caught back up with her, Natasha found herself draped over Steve's chest. One set of fingers stroking through her hair, the other skimming along her back and thigh.

She lifted her head and they both grinned at each other. He shifted slightly, bringing his mouth to hers in a chaste kiss, and the tightening of his abdomen made his erection flex inside her, pulling surprised gasps from them.

Steve flexed his hips a few times, sending shock waves through her overly sensitized body, but the angle was all wrong for him.

Nearly boneless, Natasha let herself collapse sideways and rolled onto her back. "Come here," she urged, letting her legs fall open and embracing him as he shifted on top of her.

Without delay, Steve pushed back inside her, only stopping when he was a deep as he could possibly get.

"Is this okay?" Steve asked as he pushed an arm under her to thread his fingers into the hair at the back of her neck.

Natasha couldn't find the words, lost in the sight and feel of him on top of her, so she nodded, silently urging him to find his own completion.

He started slow, somehow knowing that she was still too sensitive for much more, but when she started to respond again, gripping at his shoulders, hips pressing up to meet his, things changed.

A gasp leapt out of her as Steve's hips snapped against hers in a sharp thrust. Her nails dug into his shoulders as his head dropped into the space between her neck and shoulder, lips pressing endless kisses to her skin.

Natasha never would have thought that she would have been aroused by the sound of sex, but there was something about the way Steve moaned against her that had her teetering on the edge again. Then he pushed her left leg higher on his hip and gave two sharp thrusts that had her falling into another climax that surprised the both of them.

Later, she would be thankful that her second climax was short, because she would have hated to miss the sight of Steve reaching his own end.

His hips picked up speed, almost slamming into her, while the arm under her back kept her in place, preventing her from sliding into the headboard. His mouth latched onto her shoulder next to where his fingers dug in, teeth scraping against her skin before clamping down.

Right as his thrusts began to falter, Steve loosened his grip and pushed up away from her. Eyes that had been previously clenched shut opened and locked onto hers. Two strokes later and he fell over the edge, hips losing their rhythm, a harsh groan bubbling up from his chest, vibrating through her as well.

Instead of collapsing on her like she expected, Steve rolled to the side, landing on his back beside her. One of his hands found hers and threaded their fingers together to keep them connected.

"I never would have expected that you were a biter," Natasha said, breaking through the sounds of their heavy breathing.

She felt rather than saw Steve turn.

His lips brushed against her shoulder, soothing over what was soon to be a bruise. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize –"

"I'm teasing," Natasha interrupted. "I liked it."

"Good, because I did, too," came his snarky reply.

Natasha turned her head to face him, eyes taking in his naked form, loving the way his chest still heaved from their encounter.

Part of her was so deeply satisfied with the turn of events, ready to embrace the change in relationship.

The other part regretted that she'd just jumped him after his declaration. Should they have discussed things first? Were they moving too fast?

Then she reminded herself of how they had danced around each other for years, her harmlessly flirting with him at first until they developed an easy friendship that had pushed all thoughts of anything else to the wayside.

"Will you promise me something?" she asked.

He turned to face her, and said, "Anything."

"Will you promise that no matter what happens between the two of us, will you promise that we'll find a way to stay friends if it doesn't work out?" It seemed so cliché to ask him that, but it was suddenly the only thing she could think about.

Steve's expressive eyes gave away his concern and Natasha knew he was worried that he had overstepped.

"I'm not saying that I don't want this," she said, quick to explain herself. "Or that I expect a relationship to fail. But you have become one of my greatest friends and I don't want to lose you if we decide that we don't want to be together."

He stared at her for a moment, gaze softening to one of understanding as if he knew exactly what she was worried about.

"I promise," he said, rubbing a hand up and down her arm. "But, if I'm being honest, I think that we've danced around being in a relationship for a long time."

"You're not wrong," she admitted.

"I also think that we make a good team," he said, "in more ways than one."

"You're not going to suddenly think that I need to stay home and have dinner ready on the table for you when you get home from a fight, are you?"

Steve laughed. "I just got done saying how well we work together and you go and ask that? You should know by now that your ability to kick my ass is what I find most attractive about you."

"Language," she quipped, a wry grin pulling at her lips. "And here I thought it was my endless old man jokes that won you over."

"That's number two on the list," Steve commented.

"There's a list?"

He nodded.

"Care to share," she asked.

"Maybe eventually," he replied. "Wouldn't want to give away all of my secrets." He rotated onto his side, leaned over, and gave her a soft peck on the lips. Which turned into another and another until they were making out like teenagers, sprawled across the bed on rumpled sheets that smelled like sex.

When they finally pulled away from each other, it was in mutual agreement that they needed to get some sleep. Natasha knew that she had a lot of catching up to do and that though Steve would suggest she take more time to herself, he wouldn't insist on it.

There was no discussion of whether or not they'd share the bed. They had already shared so much that a bed was almost laughable. Natasha settled on her front, tucking one arm under the pillow to help cradle her head, letting the other find the arm Steve had tucked under his own pillow. Steve propped himself on his side and splayed a hand across her back, drawing designs along her skin.

Natasha knew that if it wasn't so warm that Steve would be snuggled up against her, cradling her body tight against his own. Part of her was scared of that level of intimacy. Even though they had been pressed up against each other in various situations, him shielding her from enemy fire, her using him to practice different takedown techniques.

But all of that was very different from the intimacy of holding someone just to feel closer. As it was, having a hand on each other worked, enough to know that he was still there and that none of this was some illusion the afterlife had cooked up for her.

Somehow, she was able to quiet her mind and start drifting to sleep. Maybe it was the sex. Maybe it was Steve lying next to her. Either way, she fell asleep more content than she ever had.


End file.
